Don’t Look at Me Like That
by Angel Monroe
Summary: She didn’t want to open her eyes and face the reality that she’d wake up the next morning alone. Future AU. Short, fluffy little oneshot. LoVe, of course.


**Don't Look at Me Like That  
**by Angel Monroe

_Disclaimer: I gave my soul to God for the book I'm writing. I have nothing left to barter for Veronica Mars. In other words, unfortunately, I don't own it. _

_A/N: Future AU. Short, fluffy little one-shot. LoVe, of course. _

She lay in bed, her eyes closed to the quickly rising sun. It was too early to get up, too early to move from the position to which she was so easily becoming accustomed. The arm around her waist, the smell of sweat and someone else's shampoo, it was all becoming all too familiar. She didn't want to open her eyes and face the reality that she'd wake up the next morning alone.

This was what they did, she and Logan. He was the star, the international sensation; she was the grounded city cop. He was needed in Paris by six and she was due at work in three hours. She didn't complain, though. No promises were ever exchanged.

When she felt a breath stir her hair, warm against her cheek, she shut her eyes tighter and tried to prolong the inevitable. "I'm not awake," she whispered with a tiny moan.

"Yes you are." His voice was low and husky, and she smiled as she felt him run a finger down the side of her neck.

"No I'm not," she replied teasingly, burying her face in his chest. Then, conspiratorially, "I'm talking in my sleep."

"Veronica," he said liltingly, and finally she opened her eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," she smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "I was having a good dream." Then, dramatically looking around the room, she added, "Oh wait, no, this was it. Never mind."

His laugh was light and she loved it. His eyes were deep and affectionate, and she loved him.

"Don't look at me like that," she sighed, tracing the muscles in his abdomen.

"Like what?"

"Like you would do anything for me." She couldn't make herself meet his eyes, feeling that familiar pull in her gut.

"But you know I wo—"

"Logan…" Her voice wasn't angry or even regretful; it was scared. She knew even he could tell she was afraid. "Please don't make empty promises. That's one thing we've never done. We've been doing this casual, on-and-off thing for a long time now, and we have a lot of fun, but…"

"You and I have never been casual, Veronica." His interruption surprised her, and his words even more so.

"We've never said—"

"…anything about it," he finished for her. "Every time I'm in town, we just fall into this routine. We spend a couple days talking, kissing, sleeping together—"

"…and then you leave." Her expression was guarded when she finally looked up again. "And we don't speak until you decide to show up again. Could be a week later; could be a month; could be three. If that's not casual, I don't know what is."

His eyes were open, caring, and she hated them. They made her wish so many things she could never expect. The corners of his mouth were turned up, and she wondered what in the situation he found to smile about. "Do you ever see me in the tabloids?" he asked softly. When she didn't answer, he went on, "Have you ever seen me on the cover of the _National Enquirer_ with a leggy model wrapped around me? I'm thinking no."

"So, what? You're discreet?" she laughed, but even she knew that was a lie. Logan Echolls had very rarely been discreet about anything in his life.

His gaze burned into her, and she wanted to eat her words. "It's because there are no leggy models. There are no airplane stewardesses or desperate aspiring actresses. And it's not like I'm just a hop, skip, and a jump away. Do you know what it takes to get here every other week, or month, or three? Do you know what it takes to get a couple days' break from a movie shoot?"

It wasn't an accusation, but that was the way it felt. Every word was like a punch to the gut. She, with all her wit and prowess, had never thought to ask those questions.

"I never…" she stuttered as she sat up, overwhelmed. "I mean, we never said…why would you do that? Why didn't you tell me?"

He sat up next to her, a steadying hand on her bare back, and she felt like crying. "Come on, Veronica. You know as well as I do that you're not going to quit your job to follow me around the world, and I wouldn't want you to. So we do what we do best—steal time and make the most of it."

She looked back at him, and for some reason it just made her want to cry more. He was looking at her like that again. "You know, that should make me feel better…"

"I love you," he interrupted, and her breath hitched. "Does that help any?" His answer, at first, was only a tired, careworn laugh. "Veronica?"

She fell back against the pillows, covering her face with her hands as she laughed and cried at the same time. It all just seemed too much for six o'clock in the morning.

"Veronica, please talk to me."

Still giggling, she pulled him down into a long, uninhibited kiss. When they separated, they were both smiling.

"You are so going to miss your flight."

_A/N: So I've noticed about the people on this site that a lot of people hit my stories, but only about 1 actually reviews. And most of the time I'm cool with that, but I was just wondering if maybeyou guyscould kick it up to, like, 5. I'm an aspiring writer. I need criticism, people! Okay, so I've said my peace. The rest is up to you. Thanks!_


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